


I Like You a Latte

by Gort



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 1990s, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, May drinks coffee, Most of the time, Phil makes a mean latte
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24254116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gort/pseuds/Gort
Summary: Melinda May just found the perfect study spot, complete with a cute barista. Phil makes amazing lattes, but he's not so great with words.Beta'd by Sunalso
Relationships: Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Comments: 24
Kudos: 60





	I Like You a Latte

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agentmmayy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentmmayy/gifts).



Not many places could truly be described as a hole in the wall, but this was definitely one of them.

Melinda May checked the name Bobbi had scribbled on the front of her notebook in their organic chem class and then the building in front of her. _The Grind_ was scrawled across the battered metal door, probably to preserve what little light they could get coming in through the lone skinny window next to it. A laundry mat and a bicycle repair shop squeezed it from either side, spacious in comparison.

Maybe she could get her coffee and go watch the dryers spin. There was no way this place was conducive to studying, no matter what her friend said.

Shifting her heavy backpack, Mel reached for the door handle, only to have it swing toward her. She jumped back, narrowly avoiding falling off the curb, as a trio of students came tumbling out, laughing and carrying to-go cups. Wafts of rich, fresh roasted beans exited with them, and she took a deep breath, savoring it as she caught the door and stepped inside. Fine, maybe Bobbi was right. About the coffee, anyway.

The interior was brighter than she expected, and Mel blinked for a second, surprised. The basic beige walls were covered with the requisite starving artist displays and though the interior was narrow, it went back a hell of a lot further than she expected. The music was noticeable, but not too loud and—total bonus—it wasn’t some awful ska rip-off like the album her roommate had on endless repeat.

Walking past a little collection of tables and mismatched chairs, she found herself picking out favorites. The counter was toward the back, tucked behind a veritable jungle of hanging plants and a looming expresso machine. She zeroed in on the chalkboard over it, trying to decide what she wanted.

“Hey!” The barista popped up from behind the counter holding an absolutely enormous container of coffee beans that hid most of his face. “I’ll be right with you.” The guy set the beans down, revealing a wide smile and eyes that crinkled adorably at the corners. His flannel was unbuttoned, revealing a t-shirt with some kind of superhero logo on it—Batman, maybe? She wasn’t great at keeping up with that stuff—and he had a ‘hi, my name is PHIL’ sticker stuck crookedly to his shirt sleeve. A shirt sleeve that was rolled up past his bicep, showing off just what hauling all those coffee beans was doing for him. It was a good look.

Mel took a breath and averted her eyes. Oh no. She did not spend all this time searching out a perfect coffee spot only to ruin it by crushing on the barista. 

“Thanks.” She nodded, pretending to go back to perusing the coffee selections.

Phil filled the nearest coffee grinder with beans, his face the picture of concentration and seemingly oblivious to the fact that his shirts had ridden up, revealing a slice of his back and jeans that fit pretty damn well. He was wearing Converse because of course the guy with the cute butt who knew how to make coffee and had eye crinkles would also have great taste in shoes.

“Sorry.” Phil turned to her, wiping his hands on a towel. “What can I get you?” Somehow, he’d dialed his smile up a notch.

“Um.” Mel’s mind went completely blank.

“I make a great latte,” he said, like he was used to strangers drooling over him. He probably was, too, damn it.

“Sure,” Mel said. “I mean, yes, I’d like a latte.” She winced. “Please.”

He’d already moved back to the machines, expertly packing the espresso. “For here?” He glanced over his shoulder.

“Yes.”

“First time?” he asked, his hands busy while he kept his eyes on her. Warmth flooded her cheeks. 

“Coming here, yeah,” she said, and then blushed harder. Damn it.

“I’m Phil,” he said.

“Melinda. Mel,” she corrected like it was actually important he knew her preferred nickname.

“Mel,” he repeated, drawing it out. “Nice to meet you.”

The steamer was loud enough to stop the conversation, and she tried to mentally get herself back on track. She had a test to study for, she didn’t have time for flirting over coffee.

Phil slid a white mug and saucer in front of her, the froth piled up high and a sprinkle of cinnamon across the top that crudely spelled her name. She let out a surprised laugh.

“I’m learning,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning over the counter with a grin.

“It’s perfect,” she said. Alright, maybe a little flirting over coffee.

* * *

“I’ll get the coffee.” Mel dumped her bag at her favorite table and gestured down the narrow room toward the counter. “You know what you want?”

“Just coffee,” Mack said. “Plain old.” 

Study dates were so not her thing, but Bobbi had roped her into this one and then bailed. If Mel didn’t know any better, she’d think her friend was trying to set her up, which was ridiculous. She didn’t have time for dating, which was why she and Andrew had broken up in the first place. Well, most of the reason. There might have been a few others, but who was counting. Certainly not her, even if Andrew had made a detailed list of their “issues”.

Mack was nice enough, but she wasn’t looking for anything more complicated than a good cup of coffee. Luckily, she now had the perfect spot. There were places closer to campus they could have gone to, but those cafés were crowded and loud and the coffee was mediocre. And none of them had Phil.

He was already making her latte when she got to the counter, though his smile was a little more subdued than normal. “Anything else?” he asked, looking past her to where Mack was pulling out his textbooks.

“Regular coffee?”

“Gotcha.” He grabbed the carafe and filled a mug before going to finish her latte.

She frowned at his back. Usually, he was chatty, telling her stories about previous customers or the show he’d just been to or recommending some movie she’d probably never have time to see. It was nice, like they were friends, and it also gave her plenty of reasons to stare at his butt while he was busy. One of her favorite pastimes.

Without the chatter, she was just some creeper staring at her barista’s ass.

Dammit.

“I can bring them over,” he said without turning around.

She stiffened at the dismissal. “Fine.”

Making her way back to the table, she sternly told herself to get a grip. Maybe he was just having a bad day.

“So, I was thinking we should start with this one?” Mack said, tapping one of his books.

“Sounds good,” she said, sliding into her seat.

“Here you go,” Phil said, setting their coffees on the table.

“Thanks,” Mel smiled, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Great coffee,” Mack hummed, taking a sip.

She nodded, her mood rapidly plummeting, and that was before she took a sip of her latte. Her weak-ass, barely espresso-flavored latte.

She almost spit it out but managed to swallow the sad, watery liquid before standing up, her chair scraping loudly across the concrete floor.

Mack stared at her, bewildered. “Uh, you okay?”

“I’ll be right back,” she muttered. Picking up her barely-qualifies-as-a-latte, she marched over to the counter.

“Phil.” She set the cup and saucer down with a clink.

“Mel,” he said, eye crinkles not in evidence. She missed them.

“What is this?”

“Uh, your latte?”

She leaned over the counter, getting into his space like it might tell her what the hell was going on. “You and I both know this isn’t even worthy of the name.”

His eyes widened a fraction too innocently. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes, something is very wrong. Did you hit your head?”

“Uh, no?” His brow furrowed.

“Do you have amnesia?”

“No,” he said again.

“Is your coffee supplier ripping you off?”

“I sure hope not.”

“Then I’d like a real latte, please. With actual caffeine this time.”

Phil heaved an enormous sigh. “I’ll make a new one.”

“Thank you,” she said, pleased. This time, she was going to watch him and his cute butt like a hawk. “Hey, did you catch that show over the weekend?”

The glimmer of a smile appeared on his face, and her heart lightened. Maybe some idiot girl had hurt him or something. She’d offer to kill whoever it was, but that might be weird.

“I did. They played half a set and then the drummer got in a fight with the bartender.”

She laughed and his shoulders slowly lowered from where they were hunched up around his ears. “Who won?”

This time, the latte came out perfect.

* * *

“Isn’t this place great?” Garrett boomed as they entered _The Grind._ “Totally a hidden gem, am I right?”

He didn’t seem to require a reply, so Mel didn’t give him one, instead, she followed him toward the counter, hoping to see at least one friendly face to make up for the fact that she was stuck with this moron for her group project.

“Phil!” Garrett slapped a hand on the counter. “How’s it going, man? You know what I want, right? Hey, did I see you at that rugby kegger?”

Mel finally managed to edge around him just in time to see Phil almost drop the mug he was holding. She opened her mouth to ask if he was alright, but Garrett still hadn’t run out of steam.

“You like coffee?” Garrett asked her. “Phil, get the lady whatever she wants.” He winked at her and it took all she had not to cringe. “We’ll be over there.”

The last project, she reminded herself, spinning around and heading for her favorite table before Garrett could pick the wobbly one. It was the last project of the semester and all she had to do was keep Garrett from completely screwing it up.

“You wanna sit here?” he asked, frowning down as she took a seat.

“Yes,” she said firmly, digging for her notebook. “Now, I was thinking-”

“Oh great, thanks, man.” Garrett pulled his mug closer while Mel stared down at hers in confusion and then Phil’s retreating back. “So, I saw the assignment, but I think we should-”

“I’ll be right back,” Mel interrupted, standing up with her mug. Her mug which was decidedly filled with not-a-latte.

She marched over to the counter and slammed it down to get Phil’s attention as he wiped down the espresso machine with a rag. “What the hell is this?”

“Uh, ice water?” Phil glanced her way, the corners of his mouth turned down, and her anger evaporated. God, having to deal with Garrett just put her in a rotten mood. He was so full of himself it was impossible to carry on a conversation.

“Yes, but why did you bring me ice water?” she asked.

“You didn’t say what you wanted.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Phil, I always order the exact same thing. Why, on this day, of all days, would I not want a latte?”

He lifted one very well-formed shoulder and stared down at the floor. “I don’t know.” His Converse were red today, and if she wasn’t so under-caffeinated, she might have noticed earlier.

“Please.” Mel leaned over the counter and lowered her voice. “Please make me a latte so there’s at least one thing at my table I like.”

A surprised look flashed across Phil’s face, and then the crinkles appeared. “Fine, since you asked so nicely.”

“I always ask nicely!”

Phil laughed and just like that, things were back to normal.

* * *

“Hey, no, I’ll get it,” Hunter gestured at her to sit down and headed for the counter.

Mel sat, a little disappointed. Bobbi’s new boyfriend was just trying to be nice. He didn’t know he was depriving her of quality butt ogling time. She sighed and pulled out her chem notes. Finals had crept up on her and she was trying to snatch every last moment of study time she could. Rooting around in her bag for a highlighter, she almost missed Phil’s brief appearance and was reduced to just watching him walk away while she suppressed a sigh.

“Everything okay?” Hunter asked.

“What?” Mel said, and then finally looked down at her mug, which was filled with what looked like dirty dishwater. “Wait, what the hell is this?”

Hunter’s eyes went wide. “Uh, lavender tea? Phil suggested it.”

“He did, huh?” Mel glared in the direction of the counter, where the man in question was putting away clean mugs.

“Did you want something else?”

Hunter was beginning to sound a little alarmed, and she worked to school her expression into something less murderous. “I’ll just go talk to him,” she said, getting up.

“Try to remember there are witnesses,” he said.

So much for less murderous.

She grabbed her mug of herbal—herbal!—tea and made a beeline for the counter, dropping it with a thunk. “Phil,” she said.

“Yeah?” He was getting better at the whole innocent thing, but it didn’t fool her one bit.

She pushed the mug toward him with one finger. “You know what.”

“We just got a bunch of new flavors in.”

“I have never once ordered tea.”

“Huh, sorry,” Phil said, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

“Latte. Now.”

His gaze strayed over her shoulder, and Mel turned in time to catch sight of Bobbi swinging through the café door. She bent to give Hunter a smacking kiss and waved toward the counter as she took a seat.

“Better make that two lattes,” Mel said.

“Yeah, on it,” Phil said sheepishly.

She propped her hip against the counter and watched him work, the wheels turning in her head while she admired his ass. Once was weird, twice was a coincidence, but three times? That was a pattern. A pattern she really, really hoped she wasn’t reading wrong. Phil topped off the lattes with foam and slid them in front of her, all easy smiles and sweetly crinkling eyes once more. She made no move to take them back to the table.

“Can I ask you something?” she said.

“You want cinnamon?” He wiped his hands on a towel and picked up the shaker.

“No. I mean, yes, but I wanted to ask what time you got off work.”

Phil froze in the middle of dragging her latte closer. “Uh, around 8?”

“We’re all going to some bar later to watch a friend of Hunter’s play. Wanna come?”

The tips of Phil’s ears turned pink. “Sure, I mean, if you wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I’m pretty sure inviting you implies I’d like the company.”

The flush spread from his ears down his neck and under the collar of his shirt. Her fingers itched to peel his flannel off and find out just how far it went. He fussed with her latte for a moment and then glanced up, still red-faced.

“Mel,” he began, sliding the latte back towards her. “I-” He cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, here.”

The cinnamon he’d added had darkened to a beautiful brown, forming the shape of a heart on the foam.

She smiled so wide it hurt. “It’s perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Ness! 🎉🎂🍹 I hope it's a magical one. <3


End file.
